Crushed plans
by Florin
Summary: Sequel to Yavannasgrandmom's "How Hard Can It Be?". Merle catches up with Luke in Santa Fe. Troubles are not far behind. FINISHED.
1. Complications

**Disclaimer: all characters, dialogues and events belong to Roger Zelazny.  
Author's Note: My second story. This time, it's Luke's POV during episode in Santa Fe. I'll break this one in two chapters.**  
  
So much for being obvious.  
Merle was sitting next to me, enjoying the ride, completely clueless about how much he had complicated my life by just appearing here. Meeting him in the hotel had been quite a shock for me. I had just returned from training and noticed him in the lounge. The complication was mainly about explaining the fatigues I was in. He hadn't seen me yet, so one other option included hasty retreat. I could get caught, though, and explaining my attemp at escape would have been much more difficult. Merle could be naive sometimes, but never stupid. So I decided to play it safe and quickly made up a story about hiking in Pecos. He bought it, but I got that uneasy feeling about things to come. One of those little events that prove you can't predict everything.  
Standing in the shower, I was contemplating my course of actions. Merle hadn't given me any hint about the purpose of his visit, and I was sure there was some reason for it - but I had some questions of my own as well. I decided to go for the latter, stick to the plan. But when I got to the bar, my intuition had once again told me that my plans are about to get screwed. Because Merle was rushing towards the exit, looking rather agitated. I don't think he was actually running to john like he told me, unless he had really poor bladder control. I decided to play paranoid and talked Merle into this ride.  
So here I was, driving into the night and thinking about our similarities, the main reason why I had excluded him from my "to-kill" list. I tried to hate him, but it's like hating your mirror image - it is only angry because you are. I felt Merle's gaze and tried to look relaxed. I was supposed to be having fun after all. Once again, I asked myself whose business was more important - his or mine. Maybe he can tell me.  
"Who goes first?"  
"Go ahead."  
"Okay". Okay. Time for one-man theater.  
"When we were talking the other morning about your leaving Grand D, you said you weren't going to work anywhere else and you weren't planning on teaching."  
"That's right."  
"You said you were just going to travel around."  
"Yep."  
"Something else did suggest itself to me a little later on. I was wondering whether you might not be shopping around - either for backing in getting your own company going, or for a buyer for something you have to sell. You know what I mean?"  
"You think I came up with something innovative and didn't want Grand Design to have it."  
I slapped my seat to hide my concern. What if I "guessed" right? If Merle's just planning to go on with his career? And if he let's me in, what will I say? Oh, great, we're gonna make a great team, and by the way, I have already trained some security guards for our future office!  
"Always knew you were no fool," I said. "So you're screwing around now, to allow decent time for its development. Then you hunt up the buyer with the most bread."  
"Makes sense - if that were the case. But it isn't."  
"It's okay," I kept prying. "Just because I work for Grand D doesn't make metheir fink. You ought to know that."  
"I do know it."  
"And I wasn't asking just to pry. In fact, I had other intentions completely. I'd like to see you make out with it, make out big."  
"Thanks."  
I went on with my performance a little more. Not even to make sure - just to stay in-character. For a moment, I regretted that we weren't the ones we pretented to be, just two buddies starting a perspective business. I threw that thought away and went for the final shot.  
"What is Ghostwheel?"  
"What?"  
"Top secret, hush-hush, Merle Corey project. Ghostwheel. Computer design incorporating shit nobody's ever seen before. Liquid semiconductors, cryogenic tanks, plasma-"  
I knew he would laugh here, and he did. Then he told me about it - he was so honest I felt guilty. I quickly suppressed that feeling, though, and pretended deeply disappointed.  
"...What difference does it make, anyhow? I've got no product, we've got no company. Sorry. Tell Martinez and associates it was a blind alley."  
I had no idea what he was talking about, but I just KNEW things were about to go downhill. 


	2. Too fast

"Huh? Who's Martinez?"  
"One of your potential investors in Corey and Raynard, Inc. Dan Martinez-middle-aged, a bit short, kind of distinguished-looking, chipped front tooth..."  
There must be some simple explanation for this... It's just some kind of misunderstanding...  
"Merle, I don't know who the hell you're talking about."  
"He came up to me while I was waiting for you in the bar. Seemed to know an awful lot about you. Started asking questions on what I can now see as the potential situation you just described. Acted as if you'd approached him to invest in the thing."  
Maybe... Maybe this guy has mistaken Merle for someone else...  
"Uh-uh. I don't know him. How come you didn't tell me sooner?"  
"He beat it, and you said no business till after dinner. Didn't seem all that important, anyway. He even as much as asked me to let you know he'd been inquiring about you."  
Maybe I have somehow walked into wrong Shadow...  
"What, specifically, did he want to know?"  
"Whether you could deliver an unencumbered computer property and keep the investors out of court, was what I gathered."  
Maybe I'm schizophrenic and we ARE just a couple of business partners discussing our new project.  
"This makes no sense at all. It really doesn't."  
"It occurs to me that he might have been hired to investigate a bit - or even just to shake you up some and keep you honest - by the people you've been sounding out to invest in this thing."  
Maybe... Maybe... Maybe not.  
"Merle, do you think I'm so damn stupid I'd waste a lot of time digging up investors before I was even sure there was something to put the money into? I haven't talked to anybody about this except you, and I guess I won't be now either. Who do you think he could have been? What did he want?"  
Someone was following us. I would have noticed earlier, if not for all this... stuff. I concentrated my attention on the rear-view mirror. This was even more important than Merle's story. At least I'd been thinking so for entire five seconds.  
"He also asked me," started Merle, and something in his voice made me tense myself, "Whether I'd ever heard you refer to a place called Amber."  
I did my best to keep my face straight, but completely forgot I was the one driving. I managed to catch that turn at the last moment, but the catastrophe happened at a different level - I had shown my emotions. There was no point in pretending anymore.  
"Amber? You're kidding."  
"No."  
I didn't know what to think, and Merle's monosyllabic answer wasn't helping much. I had to get some more phrases out of him, to understand where it's going, unless... Unless he knew. Unless he was just playing with me, closing in for the final strike, his backup following in that car. Like in that nightmares of mine. If so, none of my further actions would have mattered, so I just told my self things weren't that ugly.  
"Strange. It has to be a coincidence-," I started. I had no idea how to continue. My mind was racing against the clock.  
"What?" Another monosyllabic response.  
Indeed, what? Well, why don't we take a classical recipe: part lie...  
"I did hear a reference to a kind of dreamland place called Amber, last week. But I never mentioned it to anybody. It was just drunken babbling."  
"Who? Who said it?"  
...and part truth.  
"A painter I know. A real nut, but a very talented guy. Name's Melman. I like his work a lot, and I've bought several of his paintings. I'd stopped by to see whether he had anything new this last time I was in town. He didn't, but I stayed pretty late at his place anyway, talking and drinking and smoking some stuff he had. He got pretty high after a while and he started talking about magic. Not card tricks, I mean. Ritual stuff, you know..."  
It looked like Merle had bought it all, and I earned another precious piece of information.  
"Melman is dead. His place burned down a few days ago."  
"No, I didn't know," I replied honestly. So, mother has finally let him loose. Serves him right. What a jerk. Oh, crap... My warehouse! Well, nothing irreplaceable there. This was the least of my troubles. And the biggest was right behind me. Literally.  
"Did you know him?"  
"I met him - after you left this last time. Kinsky told me Julia'd been seeing him, and I looked the guy up to see what he could tell me about her. You see - well, Julia's dead."  
More information for me. I didn't have to pretend that I cared. Because I cared. And not just because of the information.  
"How'd it happen? I just saw her last week."  
"In a very bizarre fashion. She was killed by a strange animal."  
"Lord!"  
Things were going too fast, so I slammed the brakes. 


	3. Friends and mirrors

I needed a cigarette. I needed a lot more than that, but this was the only thing I could get right now.  
"You've been checking that mirror a lot," noticed Merle. Like I said, he was no fool.  
I told him about the car, watching his face as I did. He looked as worried as I was. I lit my cigarette and went out for some air. My brain was overheating, so I paused and let it cool down a bit, preparing for the final mind-sprint. I couldn't tell whether Merle was doing the same. I could never tell. He was an amberite, after all. I stomped on the cigarette and let my mind loose again. Julia was supposed to be just waiting for Merle. She was supposed to give him the Trumps. No one needed her death - unless she did something stupid. Stupid or not, I felt guilty. I shouldn't have left her like that.  
"Shit!" I commented. "This is getting too involved. I knew Julia was seeing Melman, okay? I went to see her the night after I'd seen him, okay? I even delivered a small parcel he'd asked me to take her, okay?"  
"Cards," he confirmed, showing me Trumps of Doom.  
"Those cards," I acknowledged. My plan involved deaths. Lots of deaths. But not my friends'. Julia didn't deserve this. Merle didn't deserve this.  
"You still liked her, didn't you?"  
"Yes, I guess I did."  
I was afraid he would say so. There were no emotions in his voice. Just determination. And I sincerely hoped that my mother had nothing to do with Julia's death. Having your friend after your mother is no fun. Aside for grieving, I still had to decide what to do next. Melman's death, the car following us... I had a feeling that someone had made a false start while referee was looking the other way. My chances of winning decreased significantly because of this. Why not start a new game instead? Shift the odds in my favor, get myself an ally... temporary ally.  
"Oh, hell... All right. There are some things I'm going to have to tell you, old buddy. Not all of them nice. Give me just a minute to sort it all out. You've just given me one big problem - or I've given it to myself, because I've just decided something."  
Naturally, I couldn't tell him everything. But I could tell him what he deserved to know. Now if only I could separate these... Second thoughts started creeping inside. Why was I so sure he would side with me in this one? I had tried to kill him after all, more than once, and even now I wasn't going to be completely sincere with him. While part of my brain kept working on this, there were other things to take care about. "Okay. First, give me those cards."  
"Why?"  
"I'm going to tear them into confetti."  
I couldn't take any chances. Whoever killed Julia probably noticed the Trumps, and right now the ambush could be waiting at their destination point.  
"The hell you are. Why?"  
"They're dangerous."  
"I already know that. I'll hang onto them."  
"You don't understand."  
"So explain."  
Damn amberite stubbornness. I completely forgot about it. I was getting irritated, and, being my mirror, so was he.  
"It's not that easy. I have to decide what to tell you and what not to."  
"Why not just tell me everything?"  
"I can't. Believe me-"  
We were about to start yelling at each other, but it didn't come to this. A gunshot boomed from the darkness, and Merle hit the dirt in a blink of an eye. Smart guy. I wasn't that smart. I was tired of all these mysteries, unplanned deaths, midnight pursuits. So, as insane as it might sound, I just ran blindly towards the shooter, like some kind of... Corwin. I wasn't completely suicidal, though. I had my gun, and my zig-zags saved my life twice. I shot as soon as I saw the silhouette, and missed, because I was out of breath. He shot almost the same moment, and missed, because I was still moving. I stopped and pointed my gun at his chest. He did the same. For a brief moment - just about one lifetime - we were just standing, looking into each other's eyes. I think I saw something like a... desperation in his.  
I was the first one to snap back to reality. I shot him. He gasped. I shot again, and he fell to the ground. There was something theatrical about it. As if he simply decided to lie down and get some sleep. Merle was running my way already, holding something in his hand. As he got closer, I saw what his "weapon" was. Going with a rock against firearm? Looks like I'm not the only one insane here. As I was turning the body over, I already knew what I was going to see. Someone I had never met before. And... something I had never met before. Some strange blue cloud emerged from his mouth and quickly drifted away.  
"What the hell was that?"  
"You saw it, too? I don't know."  
He wasn't lying. He was as shocked as me. Not that his lack of information was good news, but I felt elation. Not for long. A cold thought slipped through - it could be another assasination attempt. That would explain man's hesitation - I wasn't his target.  
"I didn't know you carried a gun," Merle interrupted my train of thought. I supressed a chuckle. Of all the things to ask...  
"When you're on the road as much as I am, you go heeled. I pick up a new one in each city I hit and sell it when I leave. Airline security. Guess I won't be selling this one."  
Then I answered the question he was supposed to ask in the first place.  
"I never saw this guy, Merle. You?"  
"That's Dan Martinez, the man I was telling you about."  
"Oh, boy. Another damn complication. Maybe I should just join a Zen monastery someplace and persuade myself it doesn't matter. I-"  
I told myself to shut up. I talk too much when I panic. Zen sounded good, though. I could have told him everything. But it was hard to predict which side would he choose. I imagined myself in a shootout with blue clouds, and Merle behind my back, trying to decide whether he should kill me or assist me. Gulp. Well, if he isn't playing... gotta get him away from the playground.  
"Merle, the keys are in the ignition. Get in the car and drive back to the hotel right away. Leave me here. Hurry!"  
Please, Merle, be a good boy, do as you're told for once... I need to inspect the body.  
"What's going on? What-"  
Damn you, Merle! You want to help. You still think we are friends. Have we ever been? Lying to each other all the time, pretending to be who we were not. Two distorting, caricaturing mirrors. I was so irritated it was almost easy to point a gun at him. Almost.  
"Now! Shut up and go!"  
Even if it was a lie, our friendship was one of the few good things in my life. I was about to ruin it, and hated myself for it. I hated my father, for making my life so damn paradoxal. And I wanted Merle to hate me. But he didn't. In his eyes, I only saw myself, gun pointed at him, anger on my face.  
"But-"  
He didn't believe that I was capable of shooting him. He was right. But I couldn't let him know that. I had to make him see that I wasn't the guy he had known all these years. It was unmasking time.  
I lowered the gun and shot the ground. It would be much more effective to shoot him in the arm or somewhere else non-lethal, but I couldn't make myself hurt him just like that. Maybe that's what friendship is about. Maybe we were friends after all.  
"Merlin, son of Corwin," I hissed, "if you don't start running right now you're a dead man!"  
I expected him to back away slowly, waiting for me to change my mind. To apologize. He surprised me once again. I'd never thought my wagon could go that fast. Something was wrong. Amberites don't run like hell just because you have a gun. There was only one explanation to why he was in such haste. He wanted to return as soon as possible. Why are you doing this, Merle? You know I have a gun. You know I'm not who you though I am. I won't be able to shoot you, but that you don't know. Did this little cloud make you so suicidally-curious? Or are you foolish enough to think you can help me - even though you know nothing about my troubles?  
I wanted to ask him these questions, but couldn't afford that. I was the one armed, and I was the one who had to retreat. I took Martinez' body and concentrated on the trump in my hand.  
So much for baby seal. 


End file.
